‘I think it needs more salt,’ Teena licked her palm clean and wiped it dry on the side of her apron. ‘Pass the shaker, please.’
She continued to stir the contents of the pot, which bubbled and emanated wafts of cardamom and black pepper all across the kitchen.
‘Are you sure?’ Dheeraj asked as he chopped coriander leaves. ‘I think I added enough.’
‘Definitely not. Now hand it over.’
Dheeraj weighed his options; a bit more salt wouldn’t hurt.
‘Here you go,’ he slid the shaker across the kitchen slab and continued chopping—the blade glistened under the warm yellow lights from the ceiling as it cut through the fresh green. He enjoyed this—how it felt to cut through something, and the knocks that the knife made as it hit the cutting board below—almost meditative.
Teena sprinkled white specks into the pot, slid the shaker back across the slab, and resumed stirring. She took out a bit of the steaming curry with the ladle, brought it near her mouth, and blew on it. She poured the curry onto her palm. The heat that tingled across her skin excited her. She licked it, her tongue swooping it all up in a single stroke, and closed her eyes.
Perfect.
She turned the stove off, carefully lifted the pot, and transferred the contents into a white bowl. The heavy curry splattered against the bottom of the bowl, throwing out droplets onto the white slab below. Teena wiped away the curry drops with a towel.
‘And done!’ she said as she rubbed her hand across her dark red apron that hid the remnants of meals from yesteryears.
‘I’m also done,’ Dheeraj said and cleaned the blade on his apron, alternating between the two sides. He slid the cutting board towards his wife, across the porcelain countertop. Teena grabbed some of the leaves and threw it over the curry until she was satisfied.
‘And now it’s really done,’ she said and undid her apron. She hung it on a hook next to the countertop and opened the refrigerator. She opened a bottle of water and gulped half of it down in one go. She extended the bottle towards Dheeraj. He finished it and started filling it back up.
‘We can make something from this tomorrow,’ Teena said as she stared at the plastic container inside the refrigerator with the uncooked pieces of leftover meat.
‘Too much bone in those,’ Dheeraj said as he capped the bottle. ‘Let’s just give it to the dog.’
He handed her back the bottle. She kept it inside, looked at the meat once more, and closed the refrigerator door shut.
‘Give it to the dog?’
‘Yeah.’
‘No way,’ she laughed. ‘You know better than me how hard it was to get it.’
‘You never eat those pieces anyway,’ Dheeraj said as he undid his apron. ‘And I don’t like it too. And neither does Shyam,’ he hung the apron next to his wife’s. ‘So might as well give it to the dog. Let him also have a taste,’ he chuckled.
‘Now that’s a taste I won’t want him to get familiar with,’ she laughed. ‘Next thing you know, he’s going to jump—‘
‘Ma, have you seen Cooper’s ball?’ Shyam’s voice interrupted his parents from the doorway. Cooper stood beside the boy, tongue out, and tail wagging.
‘No, I haven’t, buddy,’ Teena replied and walked over to Shyam. She reached down and patted the dog’s head. ‘Talk of the devil…now who’s a good boy.’ The dog woofed. ‘Oh yes, you are the good boy.’
‘Ma, I can’t find it anywhere,’ the boy said.
Teena sensed the cry that was about to come. She grabbed the boy’s scrawny hand and led him into the kitchen. ‘Come, try this. It’s good.’
She dipped a spoon inside the curry and fished out a small piece of meat. She blew on it a couple of times, bent down, and held it out to Shyam. The dog was already by his side, trying to get in a good sniff of what was inside the spoon, or better yet, get a taste of it if the boy dropped it.
‘Ma, the ball,’ the boy sniffled.
‘Pa will go and find it,’ Teena said and gave a quick glance towards her husband.
‘Must have gone under the sofa,’ Dheeraj said. ‘I’ll go check.’
‘See, Pa will find the ball,’ Teena’s attention was back on her son. ‘Now, try this.’
The boy picked up the piece of meat. It was not too hot, but he blew on it a couple of times. Cooper panted, his eyes were locked onto the piece, waiting for it to fall. But it did not. Shyam bit into it, the succulent juices spreading over his taste buds, telling his brain to bite into more. He chewed the rest and swallowed. The dog sighed and lay flat on the floor.
‘And?’ Teena asked, a curious smile on her face.
‘Wow, that was tasty,’ Shyam smiled. ‘Can I have one more?’
‘You can have more at dinner,’ Teena said and washed her hands. ‘It will taste even better with roti.’
***
Dheeraj looked around the living room—under the sofa and behind the bookshelf. He looked inside the master bedroom. Nothing.
It might be in the boy’s room, he thought as he walked towards the staircase.
His eyes swept the floor and the rugs for a glimpse of the yellow ball as he walked. He stopped right before he went up the stairs—the ball might have rolled down the stairs into the basement. The basement door is kept locked most of the time, but the dog might have pushed it down when he got the chance.
Might as well, he thought. It would give Dheeraj an excuse to see if everything was in order down there.
He moved away from the main staircase and walked towards the door that led down into the basement. He fetched the key out of his denim jeans and unlocked the door. He locked it behind him, turned on the light downstairs, and walked down the wooden stairs. The staircase groaned under his weight.
Dheeraj stopped a few stairs above the basement floor. He heard something—another groan, not like the one from the stairs, but more weak. It came from the shadow in the corner of the basement where the dim light from the hanging fluorescent bulb couldn’t reach.
He walked towards the shadow.
The yellow ball lay next to the body—mouth bandaged, eyes half open, shirt dirty and torn up. The body’s legs were zip-tied, but it still tried to twist and turn against the dusty concrete floor, fuelled by whatever hope remained deep within.
‘Oh, so you had the ball all this while, eh?’ Dheeraj laughed and picked up the ball. He gave a light kick to the body’s feet. Its eyelids stained to look up at Dheeraj, but all it saw was a blurry silhouette looming above. Whimpers seeped out through the bandage.
‘But what use is it to you?’ Dheeraj laughed again and looked at the body’s shoulder stumps. The dirty bandages covering it, heavily stained with a dark brown shade, were slightly loose, but not loose enough to slide off.
He kicked the legs once more. The zip-tie held.
‘I’ll come again tomorrow,’ he paused. A deathly silence drenched the basement. ‘Some say that the thighs taste best,’ he added.
The body whimpered as its eyes drooped.
Dheeraj walked back and up the staircase. He unlocked the door and turned off the lights. ‘Oh, and just so you know, we’re feeding your fingers to the dog tomorrow,’ he called out, right before closing the door shut.
Faint whimpers and groans filled the silence in the dark basement, as the family ate their dinner upstairs.
